


Stay

by Fan_dango



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Crying, Dysfunctional Relationships, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 18:22:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_dango/pseuds/Fan_dango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan doesn’t embrace him once they fall into bed, but he wakes up with Brendon’s skin sticking to his and his arms wrapped around Ryan like even in sleep he can’t let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on Mibba.com

It's just that they're _compatible_. That every time Brendon touches him his skin burns, blistering against his chest when he’s pressed against him, smoldering when their feet tangle under the sheets, it feels _easy_ , mindless.

He knew he was getting himself into trouble. He knew it from the start. In how he doesn’t embrace Brendon once they fall into bed, but he wakes up with Brendon's skin sticking to his and his arms wrapped around Ryan like even in sleep he can’t let go.

He knows, okay. He's kind of fucked.

“Off,” he mumbles against Brendon's temple. Brendon shifts but doesn’t wake, just clings harder and hotter and stronger than before.

He pushes at Brendon until he’s laid out on top of the covers, his mouth hanging open. Ryan presses a kiss to his slack lips, wet noise filling the air, and fights against slipping out from under the sheets before Brendon really wakes up.

He doesnt, and Brendon finally stirs, smacking his lips together, blinking awake. His eyes are red from drinking the night before and he frowns so hard when he looks up at Ryan that Ryan scowls back instinctively.

“Going?” he asks, and Ryan lifts one shoulder in a shrug.

Brendon's face relaxes an inch and he glances up at the wall for a moment.

“Stay… for breakfast or something,” he says, squinting towards his night stand for the clock.

"Lunch," Ryan says, and he doesn't try to hide the amusement in his voice. He reaches over and takes Brendon’s glasses in hand, passes them to him with another shrug. Brendon smiles a little dopily; happy. It makes Ryan’s rib cage tighten in his chest. 

It kind of makes Ryan want to turn away when he knows he really needs to stay.

His jeans are half-on when Brendon presses a hand against his shoulder blade, doesn’t move it until Ryan can't ignore it anymore and he flinches. Brendon shifts until his thighs are touching Ryan’s, looking up at him from behind ridiculous eyelashes and flushed cheeks.

“Ryan, fucking. Just _stay_ for once. Jesus.”

He’s smiling but God couldn’t hide the desperation in his voice.

Brendon's grin is less forced when Ryan falls back against the bed, legs still hanging off the side limply. He crawls until he’s on top of Ryan and Ryan can kiss the smile right from his mouth, shiver under the press of Brendon's palms.

“You wanna fuck me,” Brendon says, and it’s not a question because he knows the answer.

Ryan rolls his eyes but slips his hands down into Brendon’s boxers, using his hands to push the fabric down his thighs. Brendon’s eyes flutter shut and Ryan flips them until Brendon is under him, until he can feel Brendon’s heart thudding up against his chest in a steady thrum. Ryan kisses his clavicle, tries to kick off his jeans without moving his mouth away.

Brendon touches the insides of Ryan’s thighs with burning palms, his mouth parted unashamedly. Ryan kisses him once, chastely, and then again, lets Brendon touch and feel and revel in Ryan in a way he isn’t sure he deserves, those burning fingers making him ache, ache, ache.

Brendon touches like it hurts him to be wrong about Ryan.

Ryan jerks against him when he gets Ryan’s briefs down to his ankles, forces himself up against Ryan until he couldn’t leave now if he tried. His cock rubs against Ryan’s and his breath hitches, his leg wrapping around Ryan’s middle. He keens then, his head falling back against the comforter.

“Fu-uck,” he draws out, fingers digging into the muscle of Ryan’s ass. Ryan pants in his ear, moist lips against his hair.

“Fuck me, god,” he hisses against Ryan’s temple.

Ryan snorts, raising his head and lifting an eyebrow. Brendon looks wild, his eyes blown and sweat trailing down the sides of his face. Ryan licks the rivulets away and Brendon whimpers.

“ _Ryan_.”

Ryan rolls his hips down against Brendon and he whines louder, both feet hooked under Ryan’s ass. “Like this,” Ryan whispers, presses down harder, feeling the hothot throb in his stomach, feeding sparks into his sinew. His fucking _spine_ tingles against the warmth of Brendon’s breath and the feeling of his cock against Ryan’s.

He comes like that, with Brendon under him and around him, breathing the same air, feeding the same sensation until he can barely hold himself up.

Brendon’s skin scorches against Ryan’s, oversensitive and flushed, but Ryan lets him ride out his orgasm against his stomach, Brendon going taut underneath him before relaxing in a boneless heap. Ryan collapses against him, hiding his face in Brendon's neck.

Brendon squirms beneath him within seconds, letting out a quiet sob when Ryan’s cock drags against his. Ryan falls next to him, his arm slung across his forehead.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, and he can hear Brendon laugh next to him.

“Yeah,” Brendon agrees, his fingers playing with the mess on his stomach idly, his voice edging off, far away.

Ryan lies until the afterglow has settled in his bones, his legs feeling less liquid, his chest looser. He turns his head and Brendon is watching him contemplatively, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"I should," he starts, looking towards the door, and Brendon's breath hitches. God, Ryan wants to leave, but Brendon moves, his gaze shifting to the ceiling like he's trying to curb the urge to cry.

Ryan watches for a long, sick moment, really considers staying, before he sits up. He doesn’t wait for Brendon to react, just grabs his jeans from the floor and heads out the door.

He calls out, “I’m going to shower,” and walks home instead.


End file.
